La Divine
by Cricket Spinner
Summary: Our relationships to everyone affect our lives...
1. La Divine

La Divine A One-Shot

I do not own Christine, Meg, Sorelli, Sarah Bernhardt, etc. This is a spin-off of Wild Horses, my Woven into Song contest entry on the DBCA. You don't need to read it, though, to get this. It's set pre-POTO events, is a mix of Leroux and ALW. Enjoy!

The gaggle of ballet students, ages nine through nineteen, enjoyed gathering around the cadaverous young woman dressed in white silk, her frizzy, flyaway strawberry hair pulled into a bun. At twenty, Mademoiselle Sarah Bernhardt's raw dramatic talent was rivaled only by her knack for drawing scandal of any type. Several of the stagehands, compared her to La Lola, the Spanish Dancer and recently deceased Countess of Lansfield, or as Joseph Buquet called her, La Loca. La Carlotta, the soon-to-be diva, disliked the dancer immediately, meaning everyone else was eager to meet her.

Ten year old Christine Daae had heard all this, however, the young girl was only certain of one thing. Madmoiselle Sarah told the best stories she had ever heard. Mademoiselle Sarah had taken the lonely orphan under her wing, telling her and Meg Giry stories in her mellifluous voice.

Tonight, Christine was in hidden in the chapel, having her lesson with her Angel of Music. She had been wondering if Mademoiselle Sarah knew of the Angel of Music. Maybe she should ask her to come and talk to her angel.

She would ask, first. She had taken lessons like this for three years, and knew her Angel to be a very private one, not allowing Christine to tell anyone. But Mademoiselle Sarah was very similar to her angel. Both had very nasty tempers. Her angel could be terrifying when he fell into a black mood, and stories were told of how she slapped Madame Nathalie, a powerful actress, after Madame had pushed Mademoiselle's sister Regina, who was Christine and Meg's age, and shadowed Mademoiselle Sarah here at the Garnier. That bit of drama had lost the wraith of a woman her place in the Comedie Francaise, leading the young woman to get a job here for a small role in La Tosca.

"Christine, you're mind is not on the lesson tonight. Why, child?" The small brunette heard the barely-concealed impatience on her tutor's voice.

Guiltily, she admitted what she had been wondering. "Mademoiselle Sarah, the temporary actress? She said something I don't understand."

"What was it, Christine?" Her angel asked quietly.

"She said that… only when you had a true passion for something could you excel. What does that mean?" She had asked eighteen year old Sorelli, who often stood as a leader for the girls, what that meant, and, to Christine's annoyance, received an "You'll understand when you're older." That, in Christine's experience, meant that the grown-up she asked didn't know. She noticed with alarm her angel didn't answer. She worried that she had offended him, that he had left her.

"What that obviously perceptive woman noticed is that you must live for something to be perfect. Such as your lessons, Christine. If you had to stop them, how would you feel?"

Silence.

"Christine?" Now her angel sounded worried.

"A-angel, you're not going to leave me, are you? Please don't, I shall miss you awfully." Christine's voice was trembling. Her angel couldn't leave, he couldn't! She needed him!

"I shall never leave you, child. Never." Christine missed the conviction in his voice, and the possessive tone he took.

What would have happened if she had noticed it?

A/n- More one-shot fun? Review if you want me to. Or don't. Or want me to jump off a cliff.


	2. Elementry Steps

La Divine- Elementary Steps

1865

The two eleven-year-olds never meant to crash into each other. Christine Daae was running late for her ballet lesson, after a "prank" played on her by Cecile Jammes left her to scour the room for her spare dance shoes. Why Cecile Jammes thought the term "clodhopper" meant putting mud in every dancer's shoes was a mystery never to be solved, as Meg and the other students swore to kill her on sight.

Sherlock Holmes was scouring the opera house for his mother, Violet Holmes. She had left him with Mr. Leferve, the manager of the Opera Populare, while looking for a cousin, Mlle. Lorraine Vernet. Normally, many women of society would shun a scandalous relation, but his mother was rather unconventional. That selfsame manager left him alone after twenty minutes with a disturbed look. He had found one of his mother's ever falling-out hair-pins, and had been following a steady trail of them since.

So when the two collided, it was a complete surprise. Except Fate is not big on random accidents…

"I'm sorry, monsieur. I wasn't looking and I need to hurry to lessons." The brunette said softly. He nodded.

"It's fine…" He began, unsure of who he was addressing, a rarity even at eleven. The girl smiled slightly.

"Christine Daae. Now I really must get to lessons, Madame Giry will be mad at me." She said. She walked for thirty seconds, spun round, and asked shyly, "What's your name?"

"Sherlock Holmes, Miss Daae." He said. She nodded and twirled around again, that sad smile on her face. It was the last time either of them would meet, but it stayed in both of their minds.

1870

Once more in Paris at his mother's whim, Sherlock Holmes studied the paper in his hand. Apparently, a Mlle. Christine Daae, understudy to La Carlotta Guidicelli, was missing, and had been for a week. Why did that name seem so familiar?

It was only months later, at the performance of Don Juan Triumphant, that he remembered the shy ballet student he met five years ago. 

Shortly after that, he started an index of famous people, places, and events, one that would help him in later life.

A/N- Feedback would be lovely, and muchly appreciated.


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